


Effective Proposals 501

by aw_writing_no



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Just too freaking sweet, M/M, jabed butterscotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26810842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aw_writing_no/pseuds/aw_writing_no
Summary: Jeff can't stop proposing to Abed.
Relationships: Abed Nadir/Jeff Winger
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	Effective Proposals 501

**One**.

It’s three AM, they’re surrounded by empty beer cans and pizza boxes, and Jeff Winger is in love with Abed’s turtle face.

He’s laying on the futon with his legs straight up the wall, head dangling off the edge, staring up at Abed who is perched on the top bunk. He finally manages to successfully dial Britta’s number, and he’s starting to ramble about her and Michelle when Abed makes the world’s best facial expression.

“Oh fuck, Britta, I gotta go, Abed’s making a turtle face and I gotta touch it.” Jeff slams his phone closed and tosses it across the room. “Don’t stop making the face!” He launches his feet back over his head to somersault off the couch, knocking a few bottles off the coffee table and possibly throwing out his back before he’s able to stand up.

Abed’s eyes are crossed and his mouth curls up in an odd little frown. As Jeff stumbles across the room his lips begin to quiver, like he’s about to laugh and break character.

“No, no laughing!” Jeff takes Abed’s face and squishes it between his hands. Abed’s nose wrinkles but he redoubles his efforts to keep his eyes crossed.

“Excellent turtle face,” Jeff says. He gently flicks Abed’s nose which causes him to lose control and laugh. Jeff throws himself down on the bottom bunk, giggling even if he’s not sure why.

“Abed, did we miss any major drinking tropes?”

“Let’s see… shotgunning, beer bong, beer _pong_ \--”

“How are you so good at that anyways?”

“Natural talent,” Abed says. “Drunk dialing, dancing on tables, swapping clothes… anything I’m not thinking of?”

The top of the bunk bed is spinning, so Jeff shuts his eyes. “My favorite drinking trope is always when people get really hammered and then wake up married.”

Abed hums. “Probably doesn’t fit here, we’re doing a college drinking homage.”

“C’mon Abed, marry me, it’ll be hilarious.”

“This isn’t Vegas, Jeff, where are we going to get married at 3 AM?”

“So you’re saying if we were in Vegas you’d marry me at 3 AM?”

“Take me to Vegas and find out.”

Jeff laughs. _That’s not a no_ , he thinks, and doesn’t have time to wonder why that matters before the combination of alcohol and exhaustion pulls him into unconsciousness.

**Two**.

“Abed, don’t help him, you’re the Dungeon Master! Kill Pierce and give Neil back his sword. He’s upset.” Jeff glances to his right, where Neil is visibly fighting back tears. He turns to glare at Abed, who stops cringing at the image of Pierce rubbing his balls on the Sword of Duquesne and looks at Jeff impassively.

“I have to be impartial or the game has no meaning.”

Pierce stands up and begins to mime humping the Sword. Neil chokes back a sob while Annie and Shirley cry, “Pierce! Gross!”

“Well is there a way for you to become partial?” Jeff asks.

Abed shrugs. “The Dungeon Master cannot take sides -- I exist only to tell the story, not to participate in it.”

Jeff sits up a little straighter. “So if there was a way to bring you into the story, then you could take sides?”

“There’s no way for me to be part of this, Jeff, like I was saying --”

“I propose to the Dungeon Master.”

Jeff swears he can hear the Sword of Duquesne clatter to the floor as Pierce turns to stare at him in shock. “He can’t do that! Can he do that?”

“The Dungeon Master is like a god,” Jeff reasons. “And in a world where goblins and dragons and enchanted cloaks exist… is it really that outlandish to think that a simple half-orc Paladin could be married to a god?”

“Your logic is flawed, but fits within the narrative of the game,” Abed says. “It’s a bold move -- you’ll have to roll a nat 20 in order to bind yourself forever to this omniscient deity.”

Jeff holds his breath as Abed’s long fingers curl around the dice, shaking it quickly before releasing it back onto the table.

_3_

“Critical fail,” Abed says. “The Dungeon Master, angered by your arrogance, turns you into a small frog. You must travel on the shoulder of Bing Bong the Archer until your party finds a way to turn you back.”

“Ha!” Pierce shouts, pointing angrily at Jeff. “Look who just lost all their turns.”

“Oh he can still play,” Abed says, “he has high charisma and can talk. He just can’t fight, because he’s now a small frog. Pierce, since you’re actively working against the group, I’m going to have to separate you for the next part of the game.”

Jeff watches Abed steer Pierce out of the study room. “I’m a frog?”

“I think he let you off easy,” Neil says. “Most DMs would have smited you. You even got to keep your charisma.”

Jeff’s eyes track Abed as he sits back down. Jeff gives him a half smile, then says, “It takes more than an ill-fated shape change to damage the Winger charisma.” Abed shoots a finger gun at him.

Jeff leans forward in his chair and bangs his fist on the table. “Now, I may just be a tiny amphibian perched on the shoulder of an archer. But I know that this party has a new goal -- to find Pierce, kill him, and then seriously sanitize the Sword of Duquesne!”

Troy leaps to his feet. “Huzzah!”

**Three**.

“Does that guy even go to this school? He’s really good-looking. Like, network TV good-looking. And did you see how big his guns were?”

“Why don’t you just marry him, Abed?” Jeff growls.

Abed blinks, cocks his head to the left. “Because he didn’t ask me. I would at least have to consider it, given the circumstances.”

“The circumstances?”

“Paintball.”

“How would being married help in paintball?” Annie asks, a sarcastic edge in her voice. She’s standing with her hands on her hips, scowling slightly as she looks between the two of them.

“Well, if you’re married to whoever wins, you’re more or less obligated to split the money with them,” Abed says. Annie frowns, as if trying to follow Abed’s train of thought. Jeff’s eyes light up, and he reaches out to grab Abed’s shoulder.

“Hey Abed, marry me,” Jeff says. Annie makes an offended noise in the back of her throat. Jeff ignores her and continues, “We won’t have to betray our original alliance if we’re married. Think about it, we’re definitely the best shots in the game.” Another indignant scoff from Annie. “We’ll double the odds of getting the prize.”

Abed seems to consider this. “Paintball _is_ tough this year.”

“I agree.” Britta appears in the stairwell, aiming a gun at them. Shirley shows up next, and then Troy pops out of a trash can.

“Hey, Troy!”

“Abed!”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought _you_ were dead.”

“Great,” Jeff mutters under his breath. “Now he’ll never marry me.” He must not be as quiet as he thought, because he swears that Abed glances at him.

Britta, Shirley, and Troy pronounce them arrested, Troy mentioning there is a bounty on Jeff’s head. Jeff turns when Shirley points to the wall behind him with her gun.

“Wanted. Gay and Alive… that’s rude,” Jeff says.

“You did just propose to another man,” Annie points out.

“It was a brilliant strategic move. Anyways, I was talking about the way they drew me. My forehead’s not that big, right?”

“It’s not small,” Troy says, hoisting himself out of the trash can and tumbling to the ground. Shirley sighs and hauls him to his feet.

Jeff feels Abed’s eyes on him as they march into Fort Hawthorne and reunite with Pierce; as they feast on Twinkies and Punch; and when they finally leave the cafeteria to go find the Dean’s ammo stash.

He’s so distracted by Abed’s stare that it takes him far longer than it should to realize that Annie is no longer following them. They find her after she takes out the entire cheer team, which would have been seriously impressive if Jeff weren’t so distracted. Jeff hands his gun to her when she asks, then turns to Abed to ask if he’s alright.

He never gets the chance. Abed’s hand reaches up to curl around the back of his neck, and he pulls Jeff down for a kiss. It’s over almost before Jeff realizes it started -- it’s nothing more than a firm press of Abed’s lips against his, yet he feels as if he’s taken a shotgun paint-blast to the stomach.

Abed pulls back. “Did I read that wrong?”

Jeff shakes his head and reaches for Abed again. This kiss is a little messier, a little more desperate. Abed once again is the one who pulls away.

“We should probably go make sure Annie is okay,” he says. When Jeff nods, he steps back and begins to walk in the direction where Annie disappeared.

“Does this mean we’re splitting the prize money?” Jeff calls after him.

Abed smirks over his shoulder, but doesn’t reply.

**Four**.

It's the first time they've been like this.

Not the first time they've slept together -- that happened the night after paintball when Abed pulled Jeff into the dorm room by his belt loops and slammed him against the closed door. Jeff had been surprised by how dominant Abed seemed, although he probably shouldn't have been. Abed had always been able to read Jeff so easily; was it really any surprise that he realized just how much Jeff wanted him to take control?

No, it's not the first time they've had sex, not even the twenty first time.

It's the first time that they're like this though, Abed with one arm flung over his face, hiding his eyes, as Jeff covers every inch of his body with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Jeff wants to taste every part of Abed, wants to trace his tongue over the sharp lines of his hip bones, the softer lines of his thighs. Jeff murmurs against Abed’s skin as he goes, words like _beautiful_ and _gorgeous_ and _mine_ tumbling from his lips without a second thought.

It’s the first time things are sweet and slow, instead of frenzied and hot. The first time Jeff takes control and worships Abed the way he’s always wanted to. He licks along the length of Abed's cock then seals his lips around the head, sucking gently. He takes his time, ignoring Abed's fingers tangled in his hair and the mumbled, "Fuck, Jeff, please."

The hand not over Abed’s eyes reaches blindly for the bedside table, opening the drawer and fumbling around until it finds the bottle of lube. Jeff laughs as Abed thrusts it into his hand.

Jeff pulls away from Abed's cock, coating the fingers of his right hand with lube. He stares at Abed's face, transfixed, as he slowly works a single finger inside him. Abed's mouth opens as Jeff enters him, his chest rising and falling as he moans.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Jeff breathes. The arm over Abed's eyes falls away, and he cranes his neck to look at Jeff. Jeff smiles at him and presses a kiss against the inside of his thigh. "Does this feel okay?"

Abed nods shakily, his head falling back against the pillow. Jeff adds a second finger, then a third, then his mouth is back on Abed's cock. He thrusts his fingers in time with the slide of his lips down Abed's length, reveling at the way Abed was falling apart beneath him.

"Hold on," Abed says, grasping Jeff's hair roughly. Jeff pulls off Abed's cock and gazes up at him. "I'm really close, and I want to come with you inside me."

The next few minutes pass in a blur: Jeff rolling the condom on slowly; Abed turning onto his stomach; Jeff moving in and out of him, holding himself up on shaking arms as he tries not to be completely overwhelmed. Jeff pants, leaning down to press kisses along the back of Abed's neck.

"Fuck, baby you feel so good," Jeff growls, the words falling from his lips before he knows what he's saying. He continues to talk, doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't care. Abed moans beneath him as he babbles, "Love getting to be like this with you, as close as we can get. Let's just do this forever, Abed, marry me --"

Abed comes against the sheets, and Jeff soon follows.

They lay together, after, tangled in one another. Abed is curled against Jeff's side, warm where he is pressed against Jeff. Jeff curls an arm around him and begins to drift...

“You talk a lot when you’re on top,” Abed comments. He runs his fingers up Jeff's arm, tracing veins and scars.

Jeff hums. "More than I do when you fuck me?"

Abed laughs. "You say different things when you're the one doing the fucking."

"Did I say anything embarrassing?"

Abed stills, his exploration pausing for a brief moment before he reaches out to tangle his fingers with Jeff's. Jeff tightens the arm that is wrapped around Abed, pulling him in even closer so that his head is pillowed against Jeff's chest.

A minute passes, then two, before Jeff remembers that he asked Abed a question.

"Abed?"

"Hmm?"

"Did I say anything embarrassing?"

"Depends on what you find embarrassing," Abed says. Jeff opens his mouth to interject, but Abed continues, "I didn't think you said anything weird. It was all things I liked hearing."

"That's good," Jeff mumbles. "Stay with me tonight?"

He feels Abed smile against his chest. "Okay."

**Five**.

"Oh look at me, I'm Dr. Rich, I proposed to my beautiful girlfriend on the green where everyone can see."

"You have a problem," Abed comments.

"How do you not have a problem with him? Guy's a total phoney," Jeff says.

"I think he's nice," Abed replies. Jeff scowls.

"People are clapping Abed, it's ridiculous. We are so much cuter than them, it would serve them right if we just got married and stole their thunder."

"I repeat, you have a problem."

The next day, as Rich is showing off the ring he welded for his now-fiance, Jeff suddenly drops to one knee in the cafeteria.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Abed hisses through bared teeth as he attempts a wide grin.

"Just go with it," Jeff replies. He pulls a Ring Pop out of his pocket. "Abed, the past year has been the best of my life. You were my best friend in the study group, and you're still my best friend now that we're together. I may not have been able to weld you a ring, but I know your favorite flavors and want to buy you shitty candy forever. Marry me?"

Abed hauls Jeff to his feet as the cafeteria erupts into cheers.

"You're a bad person," he mumbles against Jeff's lips before leaning in for a dramatic kiss.

**+One (Two Years Later)**

Jeff jumps when Abed places the small black box on the table next to him.

"I found this in your sock drawer," Abed says. "I'm sorry."

Jeff's throat catches, his mouth going dry as he stares at the box by his left hand. "Why were you in my sock drawer?"

Abed shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Troy and I were looking for old pairs to make sock puppets."

Jeff tears his eyes away from the box to stare at Abed, who is looking somewhere over his shoulder and refusing to look him in the eyes.

"Is that what happened to my gym socks?" Jeff asks before a new thought occurs to him. "Troy hasn't visited in months."

"I know," Abed says. "I've been waiting."

Jeff's heart plays a pounding staccato against his sternum. "Waiting for me to propose."

Abed pulls a stim toy from his pocket. Jeff recognizes the nut and bolt he ordered off Amazon last Christmas.

"You used to propose to me all the time."

Jeff reaches for the box, opening the lid with one hand to glance at the silver band inside. "I guess those times were different. Joking."

Abed stares at the stim toy in his hand, twists the plastic a few times. "Is that why you haven't asked me again?"

Jeff shrugs. "This time would mean something."

"So you don't want to marry me?"

Jeff tears his eyes away from the stim toy in Abed's fingers. "Of course I want to marry you. Why else would I buy a ring?"

Abed says, "I thought you changed your mind."

Jeff reaches for Abed's hand and gently pulls the stim toy away, putting it to the side. He grasps Abed's hand, smiling when Abed began to play with his fingers. "I just got scared, okay?"

"That I would say no?"

"And what would happen if you said yes."

Abed cocks his head to the side, considering this. "I can address the first part, but I'll need you to explain the second part."

Jeff nods. "Makes sense. What about the first part?"

"You've proposed to me five times already. I know they weren't real, but I've never said no."

Jeff thinks about this for a moment. "So you would have said yes."

"Which seems to be a problem."

"It's not," Jeff insists. "Of course I want you to say yes. I want you to be my husband, Abed." The term makes Abed grin. "But both of us know that marriage doesn't always have a happy ending. Your mom left, so did my dad… it's scary, okay?"

Abed leans down to kiss Jeff. Their lips slide together, messy and slow, and Jeff still gets butterflies after all these years.

"I'm scared too," Abed admits. "'But I really want to be your husband."

Jeff yanks Abed down into another kiss, then pulls back, his eyes searching Abed’s face.

"Why did you bring this up tonight?" he asks. "I've had the ring for months."

"I got tired of waiting," Abed says simply. He gets down on one knee, reaches into the pocket of his cardigan to pull out a small wooden box. Jeff lets out a small choked noise when Abed lifts the lid, revealing a simple gold band.

"Jeff Winger, will you marry me?"

Tears sting Jeff's eyes as he reaches back for the black box and opens it for Abed. "Will you marry me?"

Jeff isn't sure if Abed actually says yes, cannot for the life of him remember if he ever told Abed that he has wanted to marry him for years. They slide the rings onto each other's fingers. Jeff laughs the moment Abed's eyes light up, realizing that the silver band on his finger is also a spinner ring.

There are plans to be made, friends to be called. But tonight, Jeff and Abed just fall into bed, undressing each other slowly, taking comfort in the tangled heat of each other.

Jeff smiles against Abed's lips.

He could do this forever.


End file.
